


So Long, Lonesome

by oftheunknown



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftheunknown/pseuds/oftheunknown
Summary: An evolution.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago, but better late than never.

Kelley thinks she’d wait forever for Hope.

She’s no stranger to waiting. She’s had more than her fair share of it, watching the clock during layovers, holed up in the locker room before a match, or riding passenger on agonizingly long road trips. She knows what it’s like to lay awake at night for hours, worrying herself to sleep over call-ups that she fears will never come. Hell, she was on crutches for longer than she likes to remember. But as much as she sometimes hates to, she can be patient.

So Kelley waits, even when there is nothing to wait for.

 

//

 

“Do you love him?”

Kelley’s voice shakes when she asks it. It’s a stupid question, really. Her eyes are watery, and it’s so easy to pretend that it’s because she’s happy.

She _should_ be happy. Hope is getting _married._ Hope has been there for her through the thick and thin, and she's glad that her friend has found someone who can love her the way she deserves. But Kelley can see the sparkle of diamond in the moonlight that streams through the windows and it reminds her that no matter how hard she tries, she can’t be that someone.

There’s a moment of quiet after she speaks. For a long second, her mind flashes with all of the answers she wants to hear. And Kelley doesn’t pray often, but in the silence between the question and the answer, she’s never been so religious in her life. 

“Yeah. I do, Kel. So much.” 

Hope’s voice is barely a whisper in the dark, and Kelley’s world comes crashing down around her.

 

//

 

Sometimes, Kelley wishes she hadn’t gone to the wedding. 

She wishes she hadn’t seen the golden candlelight in Hope’s eyes when _“I do”_ tumbled from her lips. She wishes she hadn’t heard the adoration, the affection in his voice when he’d read his vows, lines of soft-spoken poetry that made tears spill down Hope’s blushing cheeks. She wishes that she could forget what the start of the rest of Hope’s life had looked like, because she can’t stop thinking that she’ll spend the rest of hers pining for a role that has already been filled. 

Sometimes, Kelley thinks that if it weren’t for Alex’s sympathetic hand on her knee during the ceremony, she wouldn’t have been there at all.

 

//

 

It’s dark in Georgia when Kelley’s phone rings. It’s 3am, her eyes are heavy with sleep, and her hair's a mess as she pads over to her dresser to send it to voicemail. When she sees the caller ID, she pauses. Her finger hovers over the screen for a moment or two before she accepts the call. 

“Hope?” she mumbles into the phone, her rasping voice indicative of her interrupted sleep.

“Were you sleeping? I can wait,” Hope answers. “It’s okay.”

But the hoarse, broken sound of her voice tells Kelley that it isn’t.

“I’m always here for you,” Kelley reassures, shuffling back to her bed with a concerned crease in her brow. She clears her throat. “Talk to me.”

“I think Jerramy and I are done.”

It came without pretense, and Kelley is glad that she’s sitting down because suddenly she’s feeling lightheaded. There’s an unnerving silence on both ends of the line, and Kelley is bombarded with an unwelcome sense of deja vu.

“What?” she chokes out, the sleepy rasp of her voice making her sound sharper than she’d intended.

“Are you mad?” Hope’s voice is hardly more than a whisper, and Kelley winces and rubs her forehead because Hope is rarely this vulnerable, even with her. The last thing she’d wanted to do was to make Hope regret it.

“God, no, Hope,” Kelley assures her. “I’m not...I couldn’t…” She pauses, because she can hardly confess to the way that she can never stay mad at Hope, not when her voice is so soft and her eyes are so blue. “What happened?” she says instead.

And then Hope is crying, and Kelley’s chest tightens with a familiar sadness that has never felt quite as profound as does is in that moment. Kelley is quiet, listening to the heartbroken sniffles, because what can she say to comfort someone who’s shattering?

So Kelley waits for Hope with the blankets pulled up to her chin.

She’s still murmuring gentle words of comfort when Hope falls asleep to the sound of the rain on Kelley’s window.

 

//

 

When Alex tells her the news, the two of them bundled up on her couch, all Kelley feels is numb.

“They’re not going through with the divorce,” Alex had said, her hand on Kelley’s kneecap, warm and consoling. “They’re going to work things out.”

Kelley nods, nose scrunched up in an effort not to cry. She’d known it was coming for a while, but reality is only beginning to settle around her. It’s the same reality that she has spent months running from, and now it’s caught up to her.

“Yeah,” Kelley answers. She sniffles. “That’s good. Good for them.” She gives Alex a weak, hardly-convincing smile.

Alex leans forward to wrap her arms around the smaller woman. “It’s okay, Kel,” she says softly. “You can cry.”

Kelley finally gives in, sinking into Alex’s embrace. She lets out a strangled sob, hardly noticing that Alex’s t-shirt is soaking through. Her hands fist into the soft cotton fabric, and she cries.

She cries until she can’t anymore, her eyes burning and her throat sore. The shoulder of Alex’s shirt is wet with tears, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She kisses Kelley chastely on the crown of her head and murmurs, “You’re alright, Kelley. It’ll be okay.”

There is an ache that has taken up residence in her heart, that has wrapped itself around her like a vice. Kelley feels the pressure at her ribs as she tries desperately to calm her shuddering breaths. Alex must understand, because her fingers are combing gently through the hair at the back of Kelley’s neck and her lips press against her temple. She’s speaking, too, whispering so softly that Kelley can’t make out what she’s saying over the sounds of her own sniffles.

Kelley doesn’t remember falling asleep, just that she wakes up with her head on Alex’s chest and a blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders, an Oregon sunset peeking through the window blinds.

 

//

 

Alex’s smile is unguarded as she slides a cup of jasmine tea across the wooden countertop. Kelley looks up at her, sleepy and grateful, and wraps her hands around the hot beverage. She watches the steam rise and curl away from the lip of the cup with tired eyes.

“Thank you,” she says. Her voice is soft and hoarse with sleep and her throat has yet to recover from the previous night, but there’s a depth to the way she speaks, something _else_ that Alex hears loud and clear.

Alex nods. She steps around the counter and lifts herself onto the stool next to Kelley’s. Their knees brush as she leans forward to touch Kelley’s wrist. “You know I’m here for you, Kel.”

It’s not a big deal, really. Alex has been Kelley’s friend for so long, and they’ve shared words like this a hundred times. But there’s something about the way Alex is looking at her, full of adoration and care. And there’s something about the way her heart feels a little lighter than it has in months, sitting in a Portland apartment with the brunette woman next to her. The early morning air blows in from the kitchen window, crisp and cool against Kelley’s flushing cheeks

Kelley’s gaze falls away from Alex’s face. She lifts the cup to her lips, and her tea tastes sweet, like sugar and honey. The corners of her mouth lift into a tentative smile.

“I know,” Kelley answers. “I know.”

 

//

 

Kelley doesn’t realize how long she’s been in Portland until Alex mentions it one night, both of them curled up in a nest of blankets and plush pillows on the living room floor. 

“I’m going to miss you when you leave,” Alex had said absently, pressing her hand into Kelley’s.

Kelley lifts her head to look at her, a playful grin gracing her features. “Are you kicking me out, Morgan?”

Alex laughs, low and carefree. “No, of course not. It’s just…” She pauses in an effort to find the right words. “It’s been a month,” she says, and her voice is softer this time. 

Kelley hadn’t intended to stay at Alex’s for so long. She had appeared on her doorstep three weeks ago with a duffel bag and the clothes on her back, indicative of her last-minute decision to fly out. She had been so desperate for a change of scenery, falling apart and heartbroken over Hope, and could think of no better place to go. 

Alex had welcomed her into her small apartment, never asking for an explanation. A one-week stay had turned into two, and two into three, and before she’d even realized what she was doing, her clothes were hanging in Alex’s closet and her make-up was in the bathroom cabinet and her shampoo had its own place in the shower.

“Really?” Kelley murmurs, barely audible over whatever documentary they had been watching.

“Yeah,” Alex says. Kelley watches the light from the television flicker in her eyes.

They don’t say anything after that. The grip on her hand tightens reassuringly, and Kelley shifts to rest her head on Alex’s chest. She falls asleep to the sound of a steady heartbeat, and for the first time in a long time, she doesn’t dream of Hope.

 

//

 

The first time Kelley kisses Alex, she takes herself by surprise.

They’re standing at the kitchen window, watching the sun dip below the city skyline, when she finally finds her courage. She reaches out, her fingers trembling, and wraps her hand around Alex’s wrist, knowing that she cannot let this fleeting moment of faith slip through her fingers.

Alex turns at the movement, and she must see the purpose in Kelley’s eyes, because she smiles. She smiles, elegant and beautiful, and Kelley rocks up onto her toes and kisses her. She tastes like jasmine tea and honey, and Kelley’s head spins.

And then they’re laughing, full of mirth and long-held adoration. Kelley trips over herself pulling Alex closer, wrapping her arms around her waist.

They stand in the kitchen until the sun’s glow begins to fade, Kelley’s head on Alex’s shoulder, her breath warm against her collarbone.

“What took you so long?” Alex speaks into the silence, her voice sweet and teasing.

Kelley only laughs, pressing her lips to Alex’s flushed cheek.

 

//

 

Kelley’s flight back to Georgia leaves early on a Tuesday morning.

Alex’s hands curl into the back of her jacket so tightly that she thinks it might tear when they say their goodbyes outside the security line. She isn’t crying, but Kelley can see the tears welling up in her eyes, their descent hampered only by the fact that they’re in public.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Alex murmurs, her eyes never leaving Kelley’s.

“I know,” Kelley says, wiping a single tear from Alex’s cheek with the pad of her thumb. “But I’ll be back soon. Promise.” And then, “I’ll miss you, Lex.”

Kelley knows the feeling is mutual when Alex leans forward and kisses her delicately on the mouth.

 

//

 

Her phone lights up with a text from Alex before she even finds her seat on the plane.

 _I miss you already,_  it reads, and Kelley blinks back tears, something bittersweet welling up inside her chest.

They’ll only be apart for a month or so. It’s a month too long, Kelley thinks, but she could be patient.

Because honestly, she’d wait forever for Alex.


End file.
